Chapter Text
The day lasts forever. There’s nothing to do. The most exciting part, if it can be called that, is when she’s summoned to parts and service so Heather can examine her battery again. Yet, for all the poking and prodding they do she still isn’t down there for more than an hour, and once they’ve confirmed it’s in okay shape the only thing left to do is for the mechanic to take the cap off of the amount of charge it can hold, and then she’s sent back to her room.
Heather escorts her through the back passageways so none of the guests see her, gives her a cordial goodbye, and her brief distraction is over. Back to the tedium of waiting.
A session in her recharge pod helps whittle away the day some more, but she can’t stay in there forever. There’s a possibility she could overcharge herself, and with the recent shock to her systems, she doubts it’s a good idea to take the risk. Heather certainly seems cautious anyway, and they know what they’re going on about. As shitty as spending two full days locked up like a prisoner in her own room is, another day added onto that because she was careless with her charging sounds unbearable.
So, instead of going back into rest mode, Roxy finds herself counting down the minutes, the seconds of each hour, until Moon will— or, uh, when she’ll finally have something to do again. It’s not as if it matters that it’s him in particular who’s coming! That is- she means- he’s her friend, sure, she likes him, but it’s not anything weird or personal. Not that having a friend isn’t a personal thing it’s just- … fuck. Deep breaths, Roxy. Don’t make an idiot out of yourself, don’t overthink this. Enough of watching the clock. She’s going to go insane justifying whatever thoughts she is or is not having at this rate.
Roxy glances over to where her keytar sits in the corner, resting up against the wall. She doesn’t usually play much else than the tacky music Fazbear has them perform, but occasionally she’ll idly fiddle around with the keys, crank up the output volume and make an angry racket. Yet today, despite everything, she doesn’t feel like abusing the poor instrument to feel out her frustrations.
It’s never been that she’s liked getting angry per-se, but lately she’s grown more and more tired of it, to the point where… actually, you know? She would say she dislikes it. She doesn’t want to be angry and bitter anymore than she wants to be around other angry and bitter people. Or animatronics. …Oh, Monty.
She used to think there was an understanding between them, that they weren’t so different, but now- now she’s not so sure. For example, he’d say right now that this is just her deciding she’s too good to hang around him anymore. …But it’s not that, she would swear it! If anything, it might be the opposite. Maybe, just as she’s not good enough to be a glamrock, she’s not good enough to know him, either. All this insecurity of hers, all that hidden weakness; maybe he doesn’t share it as she thinks he does. Maybe Monty really is just angry and hateful of everyone, for no other reason than he was made to be that way. It’s just her; she’s the problem, she’s the only one doing- being- someone she’s not supposed to be. An uncomfortable twist of her wires makes her jerk her head down, concentrating on the floor as he struggles not to get torn away into the fray of her own thoughts. If she really isn’t supposed to be as weak and fragile as she feels, then why does she feel better when she’s with them and just… being, without thinking too hard about it?
Moon’s blanket is laid out over her lap, so instead of getting up and having it fall off, she scootches along the floor to her keytar instead. It doesn’t even matter what she plays anymore, she just needs a distraction. The room is quiet, much too quiet. Almost anything is preferable to being idle with her thoughts.
As she traces the shape of the instrument with her claws, it occurs to her that there are different settings on it that she hasn’t fully explored yet. If she presses down on this arrow here for example, she can change the sound the keyboard makes. For shows, she only really needs to use the synth and percussion setting, so she’s stayed around a small selection between those two when she had explored before. But what if she goes beyond that? Just how many instruments are programmed into this thing? When she gets to option 67 and the list still isn’t exhausted, she surmises there must be a lot. There’s all sorts on here, even an electric guitar filter, which sounds cheap when she compares it to the audio samples of Chica’s actual, real guitar, which irritates her at first. Next to Chica’s guitar and Monty’s bass, she always felt she got the weird, little kid-like instrument out of the three of them. All this time she’s seen it as another thing that marks her out of place, but actually, as unconvincing as the things imitation of a guitar is, it turns out it’s… kind of cool. In fact, in theory, she could even be a one animatronic act all to herself, with all these options. There’s drums on here, flute, violin, even an opera one. Okay, that one is a bit weird. Skip. The point is, even though she knows it’s not exactly the same thing, this still gives her the chance to play around with all sorts of instruments and their sounds. Subconsciously, the tip of her tail begins to wag as she considers how much the kids would enjoy playing with all the options. She could be… popular. She… she could write her own songs. Just like Moon does! All she needs to figure out is how to start.
It starts off as a quiet idea at first; a gentle hum that’s barely audible even to her own fine-tuned hearing, stopping and starting as she thinks too much about what she’s doing. What would Monty think, if he saw her now, cross legged on the floor humming something so gentle it could be a lullaby, with a starry blanket over her knees? But, as she continuously reminds herself, Monty isn’t here, and anyway- she should be mad at him, right?! So who gives a shit what he thinks! As more time goes on and she remains undisturbed, the buzz from her voice box grows more confident, and rises in volume just enough to fill the room with a soft melody.
Roxy— or Roxanne— she’s not sure which side of herself to blame at this point, is so used to destroying and tearing apart that the feeling of creating something has been wholly unknown to her until now. Within the storm that she’s found herself in, this is the calmest she thinks she’s ever felt. The humming releases something that has been bottled up inside her, and at the same time soothes her when she hears it play back to her.
Without thinking too much about it, she glides her fingers over the keys, choosing notes that feel right. An instrument that she hasn’t heard before is being imitated by the keytar, and… it must be one of her favourite sounds that’s she’s ever catalogued. Light, and airy, but earthy at the same time. Can you even describe sound that way..? Maybe she’s being ridiculous. But- why not? Can she not simply do one thing without her own mind chastising her for it and making her feel like an idiot? This is nice, and she’s enjoying occupying her headspace with it. Maybe that’s all that matters.
A while passes, she’s not sure how long. She’s been drifting in what feels like an empty void in her mind, no interruptions, no distractions and… ah. Her eyes are closed? She doesn’t remember doing that. The calm that fills her body reminds her of being slowly woken up from rest mode, but she’s certain she didn’t enter that state. Absolutely certain actually, she couldn’t have, not while she was humming the whole time, her reduced functions wouldn’t have allowed that. Not that she’s going to complain about the absolute stillness in her body and mind, not by any means. It was a nice break from… well… God, everything.
As much as she wants to remain there forever though, her internal clock informs her that it’s just a little before midnight, which means Moon will likely be here any moment soon. She should tidy up. The last thing she needs is to be found coddled up on the floor with his blanket, singing to herself like a child. Roxy takes a deep breath to refresh her systems, and opens her eyes. And shrieks.
Moon shrieks too, in perfect harmony, falling over backwards and contorting himself into an odd pretzel like shape in order to face her again.
She stares.
He stares.
”When the actual fuck did you get in here?!”
His brow crumples, and he hisses softly, no venom behind it. “Language, Star.”
”Language my ass, spaceman. You’re the one who just— APPEARED. You didn’t even knock!!”
Finally, he has the decency to look a little guilty. “…I did. Several times. But you… didn’t answer…”
”So you just came in anyway?” She snorts in disbelief, stubbornly ignoring the fact that she’s painfully aware that she’s still wrapped up in his blanket- “Creep.”
Moon actually stutters in response to that, glowing blue, which makes her grin before she can stop herself. He seems to look genuinely guilty though, so she eventually takes pity on him and saves him from his awkward dork self. “Whatever. I was just, uh-“ But his gaze slides to the blanket on her lap and God damn it, now she’s the awkward dork. “…Waiting for you with your blanket. So I didn’t forget to give it back to you, or… anything.”
The power shift is immediate. A slow, cheshire cat grin spreads across Moon’s face, and his eyes droop lazily. “Mmmh. Not cuddling with it?”
No- nope- no— ”A-as if!! Just take it back already!” She chucks it right into his smug ass face as he giggles to himself, sounding much too self satisfied for her liking. To her surprise though, the blanket’s back in her hands barely a second later, Moon having folded it up and thrown it back.
”…Can keep it. Consider it… a gift.”
She sure can’t blush, but her fans picking up to a hundred thousand billion rotations a minute is a dead give away. “…Fine.” The fact that she can keep it is of absolutely no relief to her whatsoever. The fact that it’s a present also has no significance at all. Who even cares, right?
Roxy looks up and freezes when she finds a smile greeting her that is neither teasing nor smug this time, and is just as gentle as can be. “Beautiful singing voice. …Well…~ humming.”
Ugh, how long was he even there, watching her for?? Listening to her- great, now she wants to sink into the floor. Luckily her friend seems to pick up on her awkwardness and reroutes the conversation.
”We have news. Thought it might cheer you up a bit.”
Hah, sure. She’s been activated long enough to know that any ‘news’ usually spells trouble. Still, if Moon reckons it’s good enough to make her pleased, then maybe it’s not so bad. She wills her ears to keep still and not reveal her interest. “What kind of news?”
His grin widens. “Overheard some daycare staff talking during nap time. Seems one of the little ones wants to have a birthday party at the daycare.”
Oh? “Yeah?” Not that she isn’t glad that Moon seems to be happy about it, but what’s this got to do with her?
“They’ve also asked their favourite animatronic to be there.”
What, they’re going to take Freddy or Chica off the performance rotor that day? So they’re going to get some other animatronic to fill in for them? How is this good news?- Oh God. Please tell her they’re not going to bring Mr Hippo on. That guy never stops talking. She’ll actually die. She’d rather die. …Why is Moon looking at her like that? Roxy tilts her head at him, earning herself a chuckle in response.
”You, Star. You’re their favourite.”
Her? She swears she briefly malfunctions for a second. “…You’re saying they want me to come down to …the daycare?”
He nods, his grin reaching ear to ear. Or, well, he doesn’t have any ears. Cheek to cheek then. “That’s right~” Then, seeing her face he adds, “Don’t worry. Me and Sunny will handle all the care taking. But they will want to talk to you.”
Who up in management thought that this was a good idea. She’s literally just been repaired after being tased for lunging at someone, proven she has a terrible temper, and now they want to put her in the middle of a daycare around some of the youngest kids?! They’re insane. They’re actually crazy. She can’t do this, just because by some miracle she happens to be one kids favourite, doesn’t mean the rest of them aren’t going to be terrified of her. Her popularity has only been dropping the more stressed she gets. Why now?! Of all the times—!
Her fans stutter as Moon gently places his hand on top of hers. “Roxy. …Alright?”
Alright? Alright?! She’s going to royally faz-fuck this up! A familiar overwhelming sensation is flooding her circuits, only this time it’s less red hot, and more ice cold. Her head snaps upright to attention as the humming begins. Moon is singing. His eyes watch hers, as soft as can be. There’s no hostility, no judgement there. No wariness, either. No one else looks at her like this. Looks at her like she’s not a mistake, or an asshole, or about to pounce on them. …It’s trust, she realises. He trusts her. The thought makes the cold melt away.
”I don’t think this is a good idea.” It takes her a moment to even realise she just blurted that out aloud.
”Why not?”
Is he serious? Her ears are flat, hugging her head. “I’m going to mess it up. You know I can’t control my temper. And- ugh! Especially- with all those kids, getting in my face…”
Moon’s expression changes into something almost empathetic. “You won’t be alone. Me and Sunny-“
”-Will have way too much to deal with!” Roxy snatches her hand back and starts anxiously dragging her claws through her hair. “What, you’re just going to deal with all those kids, the party, and keep me in line all at the same time?!”
“…You’re too hard on yourself.” She looks at him. “It might not be easy… but you’ll be alright, Star.”
Then, he hesitantly reaches forward, and gently brushes her fringe from where it’s fallen over her eye, she hyper aware all the while of the brief touch of his fingers against her forehead. Her train of thought comes crashing to a halt as he smiles. “We trust you. Trust me and Sunny?”
A strangled noise leaves her voice box. Why does it feel as if something is clogging her chest cavity?
“This could be good for you,” Moon continues, hand lingering by her cheek for a moment before he slowly takes his arm back. “Good for your confidence. You’ll see… there are still little ones who adore you.”
For once, all she can do is stay silent.
”Three days from now.” He reassures her, with a pat on her arm. Then, a cheeky grin. “I even heard we have a theme. Perhaps they’ll dress you up. What about a pretty princess in pink?”
Dress up. Pretty princess, her. Pink. Finally, she smiles, then snorts out a weak laugh. “Yeah, right. If anyone’s dressing up as a princess, it’ll be you two.”
Moon matches her mirth, bells jingling softly as he sniggers to himself. “That’s just a normal Saturday, for Sun. He’ll enjoy it.”
Of course it is. Why does the idea of him dressed up in a cute dress make her so flustered, though? Yeah, uh- don’t overthink that. She exhales loudly, and after a moments pause, nods. “Okay. I’ll… I think I… … I’ll try.”
The look she’s met with is one of absolute adoration, and it really doesn’t help her composure any. How and why do the both of them see her like that? What do they see in her? “Atta wolf. You’ll be juuuust fine.”
Ah, God. She hopes he doesn’t see her tail flicker at the praise, and quickly deflects it. “Not like I have a choice anyway.”
“Mmmh.” He rocks back and forth. While he’s not nearly as fidgety as Sun, she’s learned he does still have a few motions he tends to repeat. The rocking and swaying seem to be a common thing with both of them. She wonders why that is? Her latest string of questions is once again cut short when he speaks again. “While we’re here, we have to do what the humans say.” There’s a flicker of something unidentifiable in his eye, but then just as quickly as it arrived, it’s gone. “…Make sure to get good rest before the big day, mmhhh?”
”Ugh, you’re starting to sound like a tech.”
Moon seems to find that quite amusing, faceplate doing a merry little spin. “Well, I am a caretaker. I suppose in some ways, we’re not that different.”
Maybe. Maybe not. But if they’re so similar to humans, then why can’t they live like them? …No, no. Don’t start down that route. She’ll only work herself up again. Speaking of…
”Hey, uh… you still have a bit before you need to start patrols or anything, right?” It’s more difficult than she’d like to admit to keep the shyness out of her voice.
Moon nods, waiting patiently for her to continue.
“…Can you, I dunno, teach me any more of those anger management… things?” If she’s going to do this party thing, she wants to feel prepared at the very least.
To her relief, he perks up and nods. ”Why don’t we practice the ones I showed you last time first? Then I’ll share some others.”
The boredom of the day is quickly forgotten as they talk, and the panicked thoughts that were crowding her head fade away into background noise. Moon teaches her about counting through the worst of her temper, calms her when she struggles, and jokes with her in between. He… he makes her feel like she can do this, and more importantly, that she wants to do this; to control her anger, to become better. A few months ago, she didn’t see the point of trying. In fact, with all the shit the humans put her through, and the pain her bandmates caused her by being more popular, she was convinced that they even deserved her temper. Not like it was her fault she was feeling this way. They wanted to push her to the edge, then they’d get every ounce of bitterness she had, no exceptions. Yet, what good did that do? The angrier she had become, the lonelier she had felt. Ultimately, the one who was hurting the most from her insistence on fiercely holding onto all the fury of every wrong doing she had endured, was her.
As half an hour turns into an hour, and one hour into two, the birthday party seems more and more do-able. More than that… she knows he’s on her side. That, no matter how the day turns out, she has a friend within the fray. She wants to be better— she’s going to be better. For Sun and Moon.